


New Skin, New Me

by IvyPrincess



Series: Snake Tales [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basilisks, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrids, Injury, Kissing, Lamiae, M/M, Magic, Shapeshifting, Snakes, Survival Horror, The Author Regrets Nothing, the author apologizes in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyPrincess/pseuds/IvyPrincess
Summary: "To leave a lamia loveless... This is cruel, even for the gods."
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: Snake Tales [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890187
Comments: 44
Kudos: 227





	New Skin, New Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Please read the tags carefully because the tone of this work will be much darker than the previous installment.

Jaemin is restless, more so than usual. Or so Jeno thinks, watching the other snake toss and turn on his favorite basking rock from his perch in a tree close by. Even his scales are duller than usual, a lackluster purple when he's seen them shine so bright Jeno's had to shutter his own eyes in fear of accidentally catching sight of someone else's reflection through them. They look… ragged, almost, and he wonders if Jaemin is sick, but with the way the lamia is writhing and hissing down there, Jeno doubts Jaemin would be willing to twine their tails together.

“Sand in your scales?” Jeno calls down lightly, the growl he gets in reply sounding more like it came from the Nemean lion than any noise a snake should be making.

When Jaemin doesn't say anything else, choosing instead to lie there and pant heavily from the exertion of thrashing about, Jeno frowns slightly and leaps down from the tree. Up close, Jaemin looks worse than he originally thought. His eyes are glossy beneath a layer of unshed tears, and although he can't sweat, there's a hazy sheen over his scales, tail unnaturally straight.

“Jaemin,” the basilisk calls his name gently, concern deepening as Jaemin doesn't respond except to shiver. The sunlight is warm. He shouldn't be cold. Jeno approaches slowly, hands raised and clearly in Jaemin's unfocused sight, like he's nearing a spooked animal. “Jaemin,” Jeno repeats, a little louder, slipping his hand under Jaemin's so the lamia can't claw at stone any longer. “You okay?”

Jaemin relaxes slightly from his tense state, tail curving as the touch anchors him back to the present. It's clearly taking visible effort for him to look Jeno in the eye. “I'm f-fine,” Jaemin stutters around his fangs, which haven't retracted at all. “Think I need to go lay down for a bit.” He sits up and slowly slithers off the basking rock with a low thud, cool hand still tightly clasped in Jeno's.

Jeno's face scrunches in worry. Jaemin was already lying down. He usually adores the warmth of the sanctuary rooms, but if he's seeking the dark… “Need help making it back to your room?”

Jaemin shakes his head furiously. “I'll be fine.” He flashes Jeno a weak grin, wet with insincerity. “Really.” The lamia reaches out with his other hand to thumb over the furrow in Jeno's brow. “Don't worry about me.”

Before Jeno can protest, Jaemin has already slipped away between the trees, so fast that Jeno only sees the tip of his tail before he's gone.

There's a bubbling sound behind the basilisk, and Jeno turns back to peer more closely at a shiny patch on the basking rock where Jaemin had been laying. He stills. There's a small puddle of Jaemin's venom eating away at the rock. Something's wrong.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ , Jaemin chants in his head as he grits his teeth, ignoring the way his fangs draw blood as they dig into his bottom lip, both arms wrapped around his midsection as he races through the corridors, in the opposite direction from his quarters, trying to resist a moan at the sensation of his scales against the rough concrete floor of the hallway. _How_ could he have forgotten that he was about to shed again?

He muffles a whimper as a particularly coarse patch on the ground catches against his tail, bringing him pain and pleasure in equal parts. Pleasure, because it feels so good to slough off the skin he needs to shed, pain, because it tugs harshly against his waist, where snake meets human skin, and he wraps his arms more tightly around himself, hoping the skin doesn't split badly before he can hide somewhere and tear it off himself. It’s already seeping clear liquid a little, he can feel it dampen under his arms, and he wants to twist and arch up against the floor more, but he has to _leave_.

It's getting harder to think through the overwhelming sensations, and his animal instincts are beginning to take over his conscious mind. Jaemin has to… he has to go. Now. For the first time since his capture, he feels unsafe here, and what had previously been a cozy sanctuary is starting to feel claustrophobic. Jaemin needs the wild of the forest where he knows he can't be found, a hole he can burrow into so no one can see him, but that means he needs to get out of here first. He can… He can come back after he's done shedding. Renjun and Jeno won't even miss him. He just can't let anyone see him like _this_.

It's _painful_ to shift back into his human legs, a form he never should have had in the first place, but if he has any chance of getting out of here, he needs to be as small as possible. It does nothing to stop the ache in his torso, and he's not sure how much longer he'll be able to keep this human shell before he loses his control over his magic, his need to shed is so strong right now.

Jaemin has never really wanted to fully escape from Renjun's lab, not that it’s particularly difficult either, considering most of the defenses were aimed at keeping people _out_ rather than in, but he risks the chance of someone seeing him, and he cannot let _anyone_ know where he's planning on running to. Not that he himself knows, but. Better safe than sorry. Luckily, there's one tunnel he knows no one else has found yet, one he had dug out himself just in case, and he slips into the utility closet as soon as the coast is clear. It's midday, and he knows the guards' rounds well enough to calculate that he has at least an hour before someone realizes he's missing. He pulls out two loose bricks from the back of the wall, pushing the last of his mental energy into releasing the illusion covering the wall long enough that he can slip through the tunnel. It's too late to put the bricks back, but he has to go.

In Jaemin's delirium, he stumbles, and between one step and the next, shifts back into his tail, but this somehow feels worse. At least the dirt is kinder against his skin than the concrete. When he glances down to check, there is already a small tear forming, blood staining the underside of his forearm where he had pressed it to his belly. Jaemin whimpers, but he doesn't have time to cry as he slithers further into the dark. He has to hurt alone. He has to get away from here.

* * *

“Can you come take a look at Jaemin?” Renjun sets his papers down, surprised by the alarm in Jeno's voice. The basilisk is usually unperturbed by most situations in the lab, and he's rarely even seen Jeno _run_ , but he looks distinctly disheveled now.

“What's wrong?” Renjun asks, but he's already slipping his glasses back in his coat pocket and picking up his emergency satchel. Jeno would never come to him for something unimportant, especially when it concerned their affectionate lamia.

“He's been acting strange all morning, and I just sent him back to his room,” Jeno informs him, shuffling uneasily from foot to foot as Renjun turns to shut the door of his office. Hopefully the pixies can't break in this time, now that he's changed the lock again.

“Strange how?”

The corners of Jeno's mouth turn down in distress. “I'm not sure, but he's been a bit grumpy lately, and he ran away before I could check on him. But he was dripping venom onto his favorite basking spot today.”

Now it's Renjun's turn to frown. Scalekin had exceptional control over their venom, considering the amount of immunity they had to build up in their youth. No serpent was naturally immune to venom, and any slight fumble could lead to a fatal self-induced allergic reaction. It's one of the first things they instinctively learned to do, and if Jaemin was unfocused enough that he was _dripping_ with venom… It's at least a fifteen minute walk from this end of the lab to Jaemin's quarters. “Jeno, would you mind…?”

Jeno shakes his head. “No, not at all.” He shifts into his snake form, dipping his head down so Renjun can clamber carefully onto his head, wrapping both arms around the basilisk, but Jeno freezes, before quickly shifting back. It's a strange sensation, to feel the grip of scales underneath Renjun's hands turn back to soft human skin until Renjun's left clutching Jeno's bare shoulders.

“What's wrong?” Renjun asks, wondering if he should let go, but Jeno easily reaches behind him to support Renjun's legs, curled as they are around the basilisk’s waist.

“His scent is still near us. He didn't go back to his room.”

Renjun hums in understanding. His worry notches up another level. He wraps his arms more securely around Jeno's neck. “Whatever you need to find him.” He feels Jeno nod once, before the basilisk breaks into a run down a different hallway, shifting back into his snake form between one step and the next.

They wind quickly down the halls, Renjun shooing away his exclaiming lab assistants with a sharp gesture as Jeno follows whatever faint scent he's picked up, before Renjun pounds hard against Jeno's scales, stopping him in his tracks. The scientist jumps off Jeno's head, the basilisk looking on curiously as he stoops down to pick up a shred of purple caught in the rough walls. Renjun shows it to Jeno, whose eyes widen in surprise.

“He's shedding,” Renjun muses, smoothing the piece of torn snakeskin out in his hands before freezing as his fingers come into contact with something wet. He turns the scales over, fingertips stained with crimson. “He's bleeding. Lamiae don't bleed when they shed, do they?” He turns to Jeno in alarm, who tentatively darts out his tongue to taste the skin. Jeno shakes his head before shifting back, nostrils still flaring in his human form.

“Shedding is natural, and none of it should hurt. Jaemin’s scent stinks of fear,” Jeno informs him, expression stormy. “I think he went through there.” The basilisk points towards a small utility closet on the far side of the hallway. Renjun frowns. They're on the emptier side of the facility, where only a few labs are homed, and he quickly opens the door. There's nothing out of order on the other side, except two bricks pulled out from the far wall, but as Renjun steps into the closet, there's a faint wisp of fresh earth that even he can smell.

The frown stays on Renjun's face as he pulls one of the rings off his finger, a thin stone naturally worn down into an open circle, holding it up to his eye. Immediately, the illusion melts away in his sight through the seeing stone to show a tunnel carved into the back wall, just large enough for their lamia to slip away through.

“You can't fit through that,” Renjun whispers, mind racing. Jaemin's never tried to escape before, he's never had a reason to, and the worry heightens, especially if it's something he's hidden from both him _and_ Jeno for so long.

Jeno walks forward in his human form to run a hand over the opening. “I could,” Jeno begins, “but I couldn't take you with me.”

Renjun bites down on his lip, thinking hard. They don't have time to wait for him to crawl through the tunnel, but if he doesn't go with Jeno…

“I'll go down and figure out where the tunnel lets out,” Jeno offers, turning back to the scientist. “I'll come back, and we can reach the other end of the tunnel from the outside.” Renjun shakes his head, because even that would take up too much time.

He slips the stone ring back on his finger before rummaging through his pocket, pulling out a small tube filled with a deep blue liquid. “My blood,” Renjun explains, grabbing Jeno's hand and wrapping his fingers around the vial. “Bound with one of Narsha's potions. Smash it on the ground as soon as you exit the tunnel. It'll summon me straight to where you are.” He doesn't look up, unwilling to face Jeno's eyes as they tighten in disapproval.

“I told you not to test your limits with magic like that.” It's not Renjun's imagination that Jeno sounds colder than before.

Renjun glares at him. “Well, it's coming in handy now, isn't it?” He snaps, immediately taking a deep breath. “I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. But our priority is Jaemin.” Jeno's face softens with worry, and Renjun instinctively reaches out to tug at his wrist, all too aware of the summoning circle tattooed in the same blue under his clothes. “Hey. I'll be fine.”

Jeno pauses, before nodding slowly. “We'll talk about this later.”

“Of course,” Renjun agrees easily, stepping back to give Jeno room to transform, but the basilisk stops him, hands coming up to grasp his shoulders.

“Renjun,” Jeno whispers, letting the true depth of his anguish flash across green eyes. “Jaemin smells like… I can't describe it. He's so terrified. He smelled like _prey_.”

Renjun solemnly reaches up to cradle Jeno's face in both hands, bringing it down to rest against his own forehead. “We're going to find Jaemin, and we are going to find him in time. He's _ours_ , Jeno. And _no one_ can take him from us.” Not even… Not even death. The fierce determination in his eyes grounds the basilisk, and he lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

“You're right. I'm just…”

“I know.”

* * *

Another wave of pain wracks through Jaemin's entire body, and his tail flips up in the air, whipping so fast he snaps the branches off the nearest tree, unable to stay still against the burning agony searing through his midsection as the snakeskin takes another layer of his human skin off with it, this piece tearing ragged and taking chunks of flesh with it.

It's okay. It'll heal. A week is more than enough time for the scars to smooth over, until he's blemish-free and beautiful once more. Until he has to shed again.

The lamia howls brokenly, too blind with pain to care about being discovered, the fleeting relief of another part of his tail sloughed away offset by the scarlet mess his abdomen has become. He whimpers, fangs elongated until they dig sharply into his chin, hands scrabbling in the damp earth as he braces himself to rub up against the tree one more time.

Jaemin lets out a small sob, tears mixing with the venom and blood running down his chin. Why did shedding have to be so painful, so ugly? If he looks behind him, he knows he'll see ragged pieces of his hide still clinging to the bottom half of his tail, flaking off in disgusting patterns, violet-tinted scraps of hide snagging on the broken trees in his wake. He'll be able to peel the rest of it off, after... after he rips the last piece off from the small of his back, where he can't reach.

Another throb of pain sends him thrashing, and Jaemin gasps for air as his wounded belly digs deeper into the dirt. He doesn't have the strength to crawl upright, but he doesn't want to get an infection again. There are some things even the magic in his system can't purge. The lamia lets the tears roll down his face again, clean white trails contrasting the dirt he couldn't avoid when he collapsed face first by the river. It just all hurts. So much. He mewls in pain, curling up over his torso, crying quietly as the blood seeps through his arms. Jaemin needs to slip into the water, clean off the blood and filth a little before he claws another hole in back, before he can be done with all of this.

He misses the lab already, but he can't let Jeno and Renjun see him like this. Not when he's so hideous, and everything hurts, and _oh_ , who could possibly love him when he finally looks like the gruesome monster he knows he is?

Just... a few more feet...

* * *

Every magical creature is born with a name inside their soul, one they know from the moment they take their first breath in this world. Jaemin is no exception, from the moment he chewed his way out of his shell. He is _Jaemin_ , and the word brings him such a sense of joy that he repeats it three more times. Jaemin. Jaemin. Jaemin. _He_ is Jaemin.

But he is also alone.

“Mama?” He cries out, rubbing the goop out of his eyes and slithering in a small circle. But there is no one to answer his call. He's in a nest, with many more unhatched eggs around his own, although some appear broken, and those he avoids, the orange slime seeping out making his nose wrinkle. You're supposed to eat your eggshell, even Jaemin knows that, and he's not sure he wants to meet his siblings who have left such a mess instead.

But all is quiet, and it appears that none of his siblings have hatched yet, except for the messy eaters, and something holds Jaemin back from nearing the limp tail he sees amidst the mess.

(They're not messy. They haven't eaten. One cannot eat much of anything, after all, when one is dead.)

Jaemin's mama never reappears, which is alright, he supposes. He knows he's supposed to have one, but he doesn't particularly need a mama, he concludes morosely before brightening again. Because he's going to have siblings! Sooo many brothers and sisters to play with and hunt together and splash in the running water he can hear nearby. Jaemin clutches both hands to chest and sighs dreamily. He can't wait.

_“Jeno, do you see him? Didn't you say you could smell him nearb— oh. Oh my god.”_

_Some unintelligible murmurs. Why does that voice sound so familiar?_

_“Jeno, we need to pull him out of the water, he's going to drown at this r—”_

_Pain, so much pain as his lungs try to expel the water that shouldn’t be there. There’s a dull sting racing around his midsection, like a belt, muted by his fading consciousness. Jaemin wants to giggle, but his voice doesn’t obey him. Lamiae don’t wear belts._

_“He's bleeding. Badly.”_

He's still waiting. The nights are getting colder and colder, and he's long since nibbled his way through his own shell, even some discarded fragments from a different shell, near the orange goop that has turned a rancid brown. It doesn't smell right, nothing smells right these days, and he only takes a single hesitant bite before spitting it back out, trying not to retch. It's rotten. It crumbles away in his hands.

Where are his broodmates? Where is his mama? Where is anyone at all? Jaemin curls up tighter into a ball, shivering as he buries his chest underneath his own tail, trying to keep warm, rubbing his hands over his ribs, which show more prominently by the day. A distant screech rings through the air, and Jaemin suppresses a fearful whimper. He's grown so big now, his full length able to circle the sandy nest twice, and it's getting harder to hide from the vultures. He's seen them twice now, swooping in towards the nest when he was down by the river furiously trying to scrub the shine back into his tail.

They eat his unborn siblings. He mourns them as quietly as he can. Somehow though, deep in his heart, he knew this was never meant to be.

The birds only feast upon the dead, after all.

_“Jaemin, sweetheart, can you hear me? I'm going to clean your wounds now, okay? Baby, it's going to hurt a little, I'm so sorry.” There's cool liquid being poured on his belly, which he only feels for a moment before the sensation is replaced with a white-hot flash of pain. Even half-unconscious, the scream tears ragged from his throat._

_“Baby.” That familiar voice is crying. Oh no. Jaemin doesn't want him to cry. But how does he know it's a him...?_

_“Jeno, please, shift b-back, I need to get his other side and he—” The heartbroken voice breaks off in a sob. “Please, he's going to just hurt himself more, wrap around him and h-hold him still.”_

Jaemin leaves after one last night, bolting through the tall grass like a black lightning streak, blind with grief and tears. He's all alone now, the remnants of his family rotting in the riverbank behind him. It's a miracle he wasn't attacked those first few months in unfamiliar terrain, half-mad with loss and hunger, unprotected torso covered in cuts and bruises as he learns to fend for himself.

He learns to fish, gorging himself on their raw meat by a small pond, because even if he hates the taste, at least it's something. Something to keep him going, until he can find what he's looking for. What is he looking for? Why is he, out of his entire brood, still alive?

_“—still hasn't torn off.” Hushed whispers, harsh with worry. “Look, he's been physically ripping his own skin off.” It's a different voice this time. Stronger. Deeper. Cold, but somehow it's comforting._

_“That's not supposed to happen?”_

_“Lamiae shed in_ groups _for a reason. I don't know why no one's ever taught him what to do. They take turns cutting each other out painlessly from the shed skin. The venom heals them in the process.”_

_“...That still sounds... monstrous.” Even in his comatose state, Jaemin whimpers at the word, instinctively trying to curl in on himself. A small hand hurriedly strokes through his hair, separating his bangs from his forehead. “No, love, not you. Never you.” The soft pleads fade into whispers, and Jaemin's not sure he's supposed to hear the discussion. “Shh, don't tug at your wounds, baby, don't pull them open again.”_

_The deeper voice resumes, heavy with sorrow. “They're descendants of a cursed bloodline. It was never going to be an easy life.”_

_“So he was_ supposed _to suffer—”_

_“No. Not this. To leave a lamia loveless... This is cruel, even for the gods.”_

Jaemin learns early on that there are others in his territory. Because it's his now. At least, he's never seen anyone else like him, so it must be his, right? Just the prey, who scurry fearfully back into their burrows at his rustling approach. He can hear the rapidfire thrumming of their little hearts, and the heartache threatens to overwhelm him again. He would never needlessly hurt them, not when he’s been prey himself before.

He tries not to hurt anyone anymore, not even the fish. Really, he promises, he hasn't eaten in three moons now, not since he'd caught side of his reflection in the water and frozen in disgust at the sight of himself, half-chewed fish in his hands, torso covered in swamp muck and entrails, tangled mane of hair long and stringy, eyes haunted. A monster.

He's hideous. Something in his soul cries out in agony at the view. He doesn't want to be hideous.

Jaemin scours himself frantically in the pond, water turning from blue to brown as years of grime melt away. The naiads stare resentfully after him but don't utter a sound. Even half-starved, one bite from the lamia would spell death for them. Jaemin uses a sharp rock to slice off most of his hair, until he's left with a manageable amount of black fluff.

When Jaemin peers into the still water again, he's taken aback. The delicate face that stares back at him with wide eyes is a stranger to him, but a welcome one. _Jaemin_ , his heart sings happily, pleased with his loveliness, and a warmth begins to exude from his core. _Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin._

_“Could your venom...?” The musical voice is back, coming from above his head. Jaemin's head is cradled in the lovely speaker's lap, one hand stroking periodically through his hair. There's faint stirrings of hope in his words. It's soothing_

_Hesitation. “Possibly. But my fangs... Renjun, if I so much as twitch wrong, he'll be left in pieces.”_

_“Your human fangs, then.”_

_“That... maybe, but with how close the skin is to his spinal nerve, I'm not sure I can do it.” The deeper voice speaks with trepidation. Jaemin's brow furrows, even as his eyes remain closed. The voice shouldn't have to worry about anything. It's so lovely, it deserves the world. Jaemin would give it the world, if he could._

_“You did it for me.” The first voice is firm. “You saved my life all those years ago, back when everyone had given up on me. And you'll do the same for Jaemin.” There is no room for argument in that tone. But that's him. They're talking about him._

_“Renjun, if I bite one layer deeper than I need to, he’s going to be paralyzed for the rest of eternity.” The other voice is tight with frustration. Oh, Jaemin wishes he could help. How can he help?_

_“Jeno, you have the most self-control I’ve ever seen. He’ll heal as you go. And it’ll be a cleaner cut than a knife.”_

_A deep inhale. “Then may Ophion himself look over his wayward children.”_

* * *

Jaemin wakes with a soundless scream between his teeth, tail convulsing violently as fresh needles of torment embed deeply in the small of his back, but there are arms pressing squarely against his shoulders, preventing him from flailing further.

“Jaemin!” It’s Renjun, whose commanding voice Jaemin would remain recognizable through any amount of mental fog. How, though, had the scientist managed to find him out here in the woods? The lamia’s mind remains befuddled, unable to reason through one thought to the next. “Don’t move.”

Jaemin grits his teeth, fangs slicing bloody grooves through his chin that immediately heal as he opens his mouth to pant, a slick mix of venom and saliva dripping to the ground. The pain in his back is overwhelming, but his eyes widen as the pain replaces itself with blinding pleasure in equal strength, and he can’t hold back the moan slipping from his lips.

“W-what…” He tries to speak but doesn’t have the energy to form the words.

“Done,” a grave voice announces from behind his head, syllables muffled around a mouthful of fang. _Jeno’s_ here, too? “Jaemin, love.” And now the basilisk is speaking to him directly, so Jaemin struggles to rein in as much of his wandering attention as he can. “If it doesn't hurt too badly, can you turn over a little bit?”

Jaemin whimpers at the thought of moving and aggravating his wounds more, and Jeno backtracks immediately, making soothing noises as he presses faint kisses to the lamia's bare back with venom-coated lips.

Every patch of skin under Jeno’s mouth tingles, the venom knitting torn skin back together, and suddenly the magical itching has Jaemin _wanting_ to twist around, too. The lamia slowly shifts, wincing at the throb coming from below his belly button, instinctively curling his arms over his stomach, but there's a soft cloth barrier between his fingers.

“I disinfected your wounds,” Renjun explains quietly, worry etched in his brow as Jaemin’s eyes roam hungrily over his face, now that he can finally see his beloved human again. He doesn’t know how much longer the other will allow him in his presence, after all. Renjun looks exhausted, dark bags under his eyes despite all the immortalizing venom Jaemin and Jeno have been feeding him. “Got all the dirt out of your cuts and bandaged them. We’re not moving from here until Jeno's done giving you venom.”

Jaemin's head is cradled oh so carefully in Renjun’s lap as Jeno continues to kiss and lap at the edge of his scales, and Jaemin cringes at the irritation of feeling his body magically regenerate underneath Jeno's fangs. But more importantly, there's something he needs to say.

“I’m—” Jaemin croaks before breaking off in a cough, throat dry, whimpering soundlessly as the movement tugs at his wounds and they begin seeping again before Jeno hurriedly leans over and sinks his fangs slowly into Jaemin’s waist there, letting the venom spread deeper.

“Shh, don't try to talk,” Renjun murmurs, pulling out a bottle of water and propping it up against Jaemin’s lips, letting the lamia greedily drink. He doesn't normally need liquids, but this shedding has taken too much out of him.

“I'm sorry,” Jaemin repeats firmly once he's regained his voice, even though the tears collect in the corners of his eyes now. “That you had to s-see me like this.” They'll want nothing more to do with him now, he knows. Jaemin tightly closes his eyes, bracing himself for their rejection.

But all is silent, and when Jaemin dares to blink open an eye, even Jeno is staring incredulously at him, lips stained red with the lamia's blood, fangs dripping. “Jaemin,” the basilisk whispers, distressed, “is that what you think we care about now?”

Jaemin sniffles, decades of insecurities rearing its ugly head. “But you're not going to want me anymore, now that you've seen me when I'm all messy and not pretty anym—” He's cut off as Renjun bends down to fiercely kiss him, lips moving determinedly against Jaemin's, sliding slickly in the wet mix of blood and saliva dripping down the lamia's chin. His fangs have retracted slightly with the diminishing pain, and Renjun kisses carefully around them, tongue fervently intruding into Jaemin's mouth before breaking off as the lamia gasps for air.

“Darling,” Renjun murmurs, keeping careful eye contact with Jaemin as he swipes a thumb through the wet mess on his chin. “I thought we had established this, but you're so much more than just a specimen to me. To Jeno. We love you so, so much, just as you are, and that will never change. Do you know how worried we were, looking for you?” His words are saturated with sweet concern, not accusatory in any way, but the guilt still burns deep in Jaemin’s gut.

“But it hurt so badly, I d-didn't want you to see me in this state…” Jaemin doesn't want to cry. He won't, no matter how much his lip quivers.

Jeno moves closer, intertwining Jaemin's fingers with his own, and Jaemin can’t help noticing how much of his own blood soaks into Jeno’s shirt. “Jaemin, shedding isn't supposed to hurt you like this. Let me help you with it next time,” he pleads, bringing their clasped hands up to his mouth so he can brush a red-stained kiss over Jaemin's knuckles.

“N-next time?” Jaemin asks hopefully. He brushes a hand gently over his belly, and although the aches still persist, his skin looks raw and pink, shiny and newly healed under the dirty bandages. He hadn't even dreamed of that possibility but, if Renjun and Jeno are still willing to have him...

“Next time,” Renjun vows fiercely. “And the time after that, and the time after _that_. We'll be here. Always.”

For the first time all day, Jaemin allows himself a watery smile, glad to see it echoed on Renjun and Jeno’s faces.

* * *

They decided to make camp in the woods, since Jaemin was in no position to be moved, and the sun was going to set soon. Even in his human form, Jeno still maintained all of his strength, easily scooping Jaemin up as the lamia gingerly winds his tail around Jeno so most of it doesn’t trail along the forest floor.

Although none of the shed snakeskin was attached to Jaemin’s human skin any longer, most of it was still stuck to his tail, and the lamia knew he would spend the next few days if not weeks picking scraps of skin out from between his scales. Jeno carries him over to a fallen tree that Jaemin had knocked down in his rampage, he notices guiltily, but before Jaemin can brace himself to be set down, Jeno instead seats himself with Jaemin still in his lap to carefully tear the rest of the shed skin from Jaemin’s scales.

Jaemin flusters red to the tips of his ears. If he wasn’t still weak with phantom pangs, he would have smacked the basilisk. “Jeno, I can do that myself.”

Jeno only smiles gently back at him, eyes arching into gentle curves, one hand tugging at a particularly stubborn scrap of hide. “I know, but I want to get rid of the worst of it.” He peels it away, his other hand rubbing gently over Jaemin’s shoulders. “Does your waist still hurt?”

Jaemin pokes his own hip carefully, where pale flesh meets firm snakeskin, and although he flinches automatically into Jeno’s shoulder in anticipation of the pain, nothing really hurts anymore. Jeno’s venom had sped up his natural regeneration, and soon enough, the slight discoloration left will be gone too, like all the agony from before had never happened.

“Good.” Jeno’s smile widens, and he leans in to brush his lips over Jaemin’s scrunched up brow, one hand still stroking gently over the lamia’s fresh scales. Jeno’s expression becomes more solemn as he rests his forehead against Jaemin’s. “I’m never letting you go through something like this alone again. We’ve known each other for years now, and I know you don’t like me at times, but Renjun isn’t the only one who would miss you if you left us, you know.”

“I do like you!” Jaemin protests, choosing not to combust at the rest of Jeno’s statement. “I just… I like the way we fight, too,” he finishes in a low mumble, looking down to avoid Jeno’s gaze, but his arms wrap even tighter around Jeno’s neck, leeching as much warmth and affection from the other serpent as he can.

Jeno laughs softly, a rumble that Jaemin can feel in his own chest, and the basilisk nuzzles back against him, soft as always whenever Jaemin allows him to be. “I like it, too, don’t worry. But really, let me help you shed next time? My venom is at your disposal, whenever you need it.”

Jaemin peers up at him through his lashes, a little coyly, and Jeno’s eyes widen as he feels the lamia’s allure flicker enticingly. “Even now?” Jaemin purrs, breath fanning out across Jeno’s lips, and Jeno can’t resist leaning in for the kiss Jaemin wants.

“Always,” Jeno whispers back before Jaemin tugs his lower lip between his teeth, waiting for Jeno to gasp so he can kiss him eagerly, gentle hands coming up to cradle Jeno’s head. Jaemin dips his tongue easily inside Jeno’s mouth, chasing the sweet, refreshing taste that is purely Jeno, still mixed with a coppery tang of Jaemin’s blood on his lips, but that deters neither of them.

Jaemin can’t resist the mewl he lets out at just how _good_ it feels to kiss the basilisk, Jeno echoing his small noises with a quiet groan of his own, Jaemin chasing Jeno’s mouth when he tries to pull away, uncaring that they’re both out of breath, silently urging Jeno to taste his own venom—

“Having fun without me?” Renjun sounds amused as he sits down on the fallen tree next to Jeno, tucking himself neatly under Jaemin’s tail, laughing as the lamia all but flies into his lap to give kisses of his own.

Jeno scoops up the rest of Jaemin’s tail from behind them, draping it in his lap and plucking off the rest of the shed skin as he affectionately watches his lovers murmur to each other. “Did your call make it through?”

Renjun turns in Jeno’s direction and smiles triumphantly as Jaemin continues to press small kisses behind his ear, trailing down his neck. “Yeah, turns out the phone I tweaked gets cell service that’s pretty magical on its own.”

Jeno snorts but continues to lovingly clean the scaly length in his hands. “So everything’s fine back at base?”

“Mmhm, as long as we make it back sometime tomorrow. We’re free to stay out here tonight, and I’ve set up some basic wards in a clearing a few minutes from here.”

Jaemin squeezes Renjun more tightly as they talk, and Renjun must sense the guilt sitting heavy in his belly because he gently pries Jaemin’s head out of the crook of his neck to look him fondly in the eye. “Hey, none of that now, it’s not your fault at all.”

“But it is,” Jaemin protests. “If I hadn’t run away—”

“If you didn’t feel safe enough back in the lab to shed, then it’s my mistake for not preparing the proper environment,” Renjun interrupts firmly. “And I’m going to do whatever it takes to fix that, because when I found you and you chose to stay with me, it became my responsibility to provide for you. I’d chase you to the ends of the earth to make sure you’re okay. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

“But your experiments…” Jaemin trails off.

“Experiments can be postponed,” Jeno interjects softly, scooting closer to wrap an arm around Renjun, his other hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind Jaemin’s ear. “But Jaemin, there’s only one of you to us. And you, in danger, will always be our top priority.”

Jaemin beams shakily at the love he feels emanate from both of them, his own core singing at their loving concern. He’s not alone anymore. Truly, he hasn’t been alone for a while, even if he’s taken a while to catch on, and _oh_ , how the magic cries triumphantly at his acceptance of their love, tingling joyously from the roots of his hair down his torso to the tip of his tail.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Renjun sighs affectionately. “Look at you.” He strokes a hand over the lamia’s tail, drawing a gasp from Jaemin as he notices. His scales are a deep sapphire, tossing shards of rainbow-colored light across the trees as they dazzle under the sunset glow, hinting at stormy ocean depths trapped beneath each scale, and he knows his hair has turned a similarly rich shade of blue.

Jeno smiles. “Beautiful, just the way we’ve always known.”

And Jaemin sinks into their embrace, loveless no longer, home at last.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it :) next up... markhyuck? it'll be sweeter, i promise lol
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/1vyPrincess) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/IvyPrincess)


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